


It's All Just Cafe Talk Anyway

by thecheekydragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Café, M/M, Modern AU, POV Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:22:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecheekydragon/pseuds/thecheekydragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is impressed with the new university cafe employee - Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All Just Cafe Talk Anyway

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ on July 21, 2010.
> 
> Yep, more housekeeping :)

The guy really was an idiot, Arthur thought, as he watched the tall dark-haired young man who served in the cafe exchange barbs and insults with three members of the university football team, chaps Arthur knew well since he was their captain. And, knowing them and their antics well, it was quite moronic for this cafe chap to be antagonizing them further by playing at their own game. Still, Arthur was impressed that he was trying to antagonize them at all.

Arthur sidled up to the counter and motioned with his fingers to Gwen, who was shaking her head at the men in disapproval, to come over. Gwen had been working at the Albion University cafe for almost a year now and Arthur, who frequented the cafe daily, considered her somewhat of a ‘friend’. Besides, Gwen was good friends with Arthur’s step-sister, Morgana.

“Who’s the new guy?” Arthur asked her.

Gwen smiled at Arthur. “His name is Merlin,” she told him, then added, “I hope you’re going to give your friends a tongue-lashing for being such prats to poor Merlin.”

Arthur shrugged, grinning. “I dunno. He looks like he’s doing all right by himself.”

Gwen gave him a very pointed look so Arthur decided he should probably go over and put a stop to the harassment, even if just for the sake of getting both Gwen and Merlin back to work.

“.....before I realized your sister was such a scrubber,” Arthur heard ‘Merlin’ jab at Wendall Williams, who was obviously the primary tormentor of the three, which was really no surprise to Arthur.

“Bugger off,” Arthur told Wendall, Miles and Chas, and Arthur noticed Merlin giving him a look of confused interest. He saw that his three teammates all had cups of steaming beverages in their hands and added, “Maybe the rest of us would like _him_ ,” Arthur jerked a thumb at Merlin, “to get back to work so we can get our orders filled.”

Merlin disappeared behind the counter for a moment and then returned with a lidded paper cup, which he handed to Arthur.

“What’s this?” Arthur asked, confused.

“Latte, non-fat milk, extra shot of espresso,” Merlin said with an obnoxiously catching smile. “Just the way you like it, I believe.”

Arthur was dumbfounded. This guy had it right on. “How did you know that?” he asked Merlin.

Merlin smiled smugly. “I’ve been working here for a week. You come in at least two or three times a day. You always order the same thing.”

“Oh, right,” Arthur said, surprised that he hadn’t noticed this Merlin before. But, to be fair, Arthur usually just shuffled along distractedly as he got his latte, generally not exchanging conversation with anybody, except for Gwen, and only on occasion.

Arthur reached in his pocket and pulled out some notes to give to Merlin. “Thanks, mate,” he said and then made his way to a table, giving Wendall and his chums a parting warning look. Apparently, Wendall had had his fill of bullying the new coffee guy for one day, and so he left the cafe with Miles and Chas following him.

Arthur took a seat at one of his favourite tables and spread the daily newspaper out in front of him. It was his habit to drink his latte while reading the political section, preferring the least amount of distraction. He concentrated on reading but found himself glancing up at the new coffee guy, watching as he took and prepared orders. 

Watching him, Arthur had to admit that Merlin was service perfection. Not only did he seem to please patrons by getting their orders exactly right, but he did so with that catching smile, which seemed to directly infect others. Arthur noted that most patrons left with a cup and a newly formed smile of their own.

Arthur was impressed. Gwen had been serving him coffee daily for a year and Arthur still had to remind her to put an extra shot of espresso in his latte. Merlin had his order down in one week. And while Gwen always gave him a lovely smile, it was not nearly as infectious as the one Merlin wore. And, Merlin showed he could hold his own against bullies like Wendall Willliams, using wit and a sharp tongue.

Yes, this Merlin intrigued him, Arthur thought. He would have to make a point of asking Gwen what she knew about him.

*~*~*~*~*

Arthur had found out from Gwen that Merlin was a graduate student in physics, completing a doctoral degree (The guy must be really smart, he remembered thinking, because Arthur was sure Merlin was under the age of twenty-five) and that he had come from some small town (Gwen couldn’t remember its name) on the outskirts of Albion. As a graduate student, he had needed some extra cash, and so he had taken the position open at the cafe in hopes to stretch his budget.

Continuing his usual two-to-three times daily visit to the university cafe – he should probably cut back on his caffeine consumption – Arthur had developed a friendly rapport with Merlin quite easily. They greeted each other warmly, often cracking jokes or trying to one-up each other by making witty comments that Gwen (who was usually scheduled on shift with Merlin) scoffed and rolled her eyes at.

After a couple of weeks, Merlin had taken to sitting with Arthur during lulls in the cafe business. Arthur would sip his latte and read his newspaper, or he would chat idly with Merlin about this and that, depending on their moods and desire for conversation. 

It was during one of these lull periods that Merlin was sitting at a table with Arthur, who was nursing his second Merlin-made latte of the day, newspaper spread out before him, but his attention focused on his table companion. Arthur was staring at the papers Merlin was bent over, watching with rapt interest as Merlin scribbled numbers and symbols furiously, muttering rubbish at the page before him, almost oblivious to Arthur’s presence.

“What are you doing?” Arthur finally asked.

Merlin looked up in surprise, a befuddled expression on his face. “I’m trying to work out some equations,” he told Arthur, taking the opportunity to sip his self-made coffee confection, one that consisted of about one-third coffee, one-third cream, and one-third sugar. Arthur still had trouble believing that cafe patrons were actually starting to order what Gwen had heartily labelled ‘The Merlin’.

“Oh, is that what that is,” Arthur responded, taking a sip of his own far less sweet and fattening brew. “It looks like some kind of hocus pocus, if you ask me.”

“Hocus pocus?” 

“Yeah, you know, like magic or spells,” Arthur said, trying to hide his amusement at Merlin’s affronted look behind his latte cup. “Something you’d see that Potter kid writing down in his journal at Hogwarts.” 

Merlin gave Arthur a look that said he got the joke but was not entirely amused. He did, however, allow a tilted smile.

“It’s physics, Arthur, not magic,” Merlin stated. “Equations I’m working on for my dissertation research.” He tossed Arthur a teasing smile. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who got into this fine higher education establishment simply because he’s rich and because he can play a mean game of football?”

Arthur couldn’t help but smile back at Merlin. “How do you know I’m rich?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Uh, let’s see,” he said, ticking off items on his fingers as he spoke, “the designer clothes you wear, the polished way you walk and talk, the expensive cologne you sport, the grossly over-priced sports car you drive, the way you ridiculously over-tip for your lattes and, oh, the fact that Gwen mentioned you are the son of one of the most prominent families in Albion, a family which just so happens to have a whole lot of money.” 

“So you’ve noticed the cologne I wear,” Arthur said, his blue eyes sparkling. “You like it?”

Merlin did a double eye roll this time. 

Arthur chuckled. “And I’ll have you know, I do more than just play a mean game of football.”

“Oh really?”

Arthur noted Merlin’s teasing grin and smiled with amusement back at him, resisting the urge to playfully call him a name.

“I’m working on my second graduate degree,” he told Merlin. “Sure, it’s not really hard stuff like this--” He waved a hand at the papers with the equations. “—but it should give me a solid fall-back plan if my career as a professional footy player doesn’t pan out.” He was kidding about the athletic career, of course, and Merlin knew it.

Merlin’s eyes sparked with interest. “What’s it in?”

“Political Science and International Studies,” Arthur said. 

“What’s your first graduate degree in?”

“History.”

Merlin raised his eyebrows. “Impressive,” he commented and Arthur was surprised to find that he was very pleased at hearing this. “So what’s the back-up plan?” Merlin probed further.

“International diplomacy,” Arthur told him, feeling surprisingly comfortable sharing his life plans with his new friend. 

“FCO?” Merlin queried. 

“Maybe,” Arthur replied. “My dream would be to mediate conflicts and work toward peaceful resolution. My thesis is a case study of the conflicts and ethnic cleansing in Rwanda and the strategies for peacefully resolving the crises. I’d like to be the youngest international dispute mediator, but I’ve got to finish this degree first.” Arthur felt the blush creep into his cheeks that usually made an appearance when he spoke of his ambitions, goals that most people, including his father, thought were rather lofty.

“Very noble,” Merlin said with deep sincerity. 

Arthur snorted, in part to hide the newly rising blush stimulated by Merlin’s compliment. “My father doesn’t think so,” he said, surprising himself at sharing this much with Merlin.

“No? And why is that?”

Arthur shook his head. “My father is a litigator who makes new money to add to his old money based on personal conflicts. He thinks the natural way of the world is for countries to compete and fight for dominance. Peace does not bring profit for anybody.” Arthur smiled tightly. “He thinks both my degrees and my career ambitions are a complete waste of time.”

“If you believe in it, then it’s not a waste of time,” Merlin said, then added, winking at him, “Besides, I can totally see you smooth-talking the biggest and the baddest world leaders into peace.”

Arthur laughed. It was nice to be able to share his life’s ambitions with Merlin, who offered no judgment – something he did not feel comfortable doing with most people. And here was a guy he didn’t even know existed a few weeks ago telling him his ambitions were noble and offering his support. 

Merlin returned to his scribbling. “And, yeah, I like it,” he mumbled, eliciting a questioning glance from Arthur. But before Arthur could even ask what Merlin was talking about, Merlin said, without ever looking up from his paper, apparently sensing Arthur’s question, “Your cologne. It smells really awesome by the way.”

Arthur chuckled. Merlin was amazing.

*~*~*~*~*

“Merlin,” Arthur called softly, reaching with a finger to poke him awake.

Merlin raised his head from the table, one eye still shut, a crease across his cheekbone where it had laid for several hours against a sheath of scattered papers. He looked at Arthur, confused and sleepy, then looked around him.

“Oh, geez, I must have fallen asleep.”

“Must have,” Arthur concurred with amusement. “What were you doing here anyway?”

Merlin attempted to shake himself more awake. “Trying to get some work done,” he said, gesturing at the mess of papers and the idling laptop on the cafe table. “The guy in the flat above me has been running a jack-hammer or something for the last two nights. I figured I could get some peace and quiet here after my shift. It worked, except I fell asleep.” 

Merlin glanced over at the cafe counter, where Saffie was busy trying to fill orders. “What time is it anyway?”

“Past nine o’clock,” Arthur said. He knew as well as Merlin that this was one of the busiest times of the day. There had been quite a line-up already forming when Arthur had first arrived, before he had noticed Merlin with his head down on one of the back corner tables, dozing.

“That explains why it’s so busy,” Merlin commented. He ran a hand through his sleep-scrunched hair. 

“That, and the fact that Saffie seems to be on shift by herself.”

“Where’s Edwin?”

Arthur shrugged. He assumed ‘Edwin’ was the chap who usually worked shift with Saffie. Arthur hadn’t known his name. He only knew Saffie’s name because she had introduced herself to him when she had first started working at the cafe. Arthur was inclined to believe Saffie had a crush on him, but he pretended most of the time not to notice. 

Merlin got up from the table and went behind the counter, talking with Saffie as she continued to take and fill orders. A few minutes later and Merlin was back, a steaming cup in his hand. 

“Here’s your latte. Would you mind watching my stuff while I get cleaned up some? Edwin called in sick and Saffie needs help.”

“Don’t you work a shift later?” Arthur asked him. Talk about burning the candle at both ends _and_ in the middle.

Merlin nodded. “I’m supposed to work at two with Gwen.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said. “That will be over ten hours of working and you didn’t exactly get a good night’s sleep.”

Now Merlin shrugged. “I know. But I could use the money.”

“I thought you had a scholarship.”

“I do. But after tuition, rent, and some equipment I need to do my research, there isn’t a whole lot left over.” He flicked a look at the harried girl behind the counter. “Besides, Saffie needs the help.”

Merlin really was a saint, Arthur decided, as he watched Merlin scoot to the back room to ‘clean himself up some’. He took a seat at the table and was unsurprised to see Merlin return in less than three minutes, his hair slightly damp and his face looking somewhat refreshed. Merlin’s clean up must have consisted of him splashing cold water on his face and through his hair. 

Arthur presided over Merlin’s “stuff” as he sipped his latte and read his newspaper, ever so often glancing at Merlin working behind the counter. He looked tired as hell but his smile never wavered. And, it seemed Merlin’s efficiency was on par for having spent the night in the cafe – Arthur heard only the sounds of satisfied customers.

He found himself feeling somewhat sorry for Merlin. Here was a guy who was above average smart, who was completing a doctoral degree at such a young age, had a scholarship to a prestigious university, but who worked himself to the bone because he had to and because he was the type to help others when they needed him. 

“So Pendragon, you slumming it with the coffee guy now?” Wendall jeered, interrupting Arthur’s thoughts. 

Arthur looked up from his newspaper. “I’m not slumming it,” he returned evenly. Where did Wendall Williams get off suggesting hanging out with Merlin was ‘slumming’? 

“Whatever,” Wendall said. He smirked then joined the short line-up.

Arthur stared after him for a couple of minutes. Sometimes he wanted to slap that smirk right off of Wendall Williams’ face. 

*~*~*~*~*

Merlin was sitting in a corner of the cafe when Arthur popped in for his daily latte. He was dressed for work but he was obviously not working. Elbows on the table, chin resting dejectedly in his palms, Merlin looked a pitiful sight. Arthur ordered his latte from Gwen, who had to be reminded to put the extra shot of expresso in, jerking his head toward Merlin, who had not even noticed that Arthur had come in. 

“What’s up with Merlin?” he asked.

Gwen frowned. “I’m not sure. He said something about his scholarship being taken away?”

Arthur carried his cup over to the table where Merlin sat, his head now resting on folded arms. He sank into a chair opposite him. 

“Hey, mate, what’s going on?”

Merlin looked up, his eyes flickering briefly with surprise before returning to a gloomy blue. “Oh, hey,” he returned quietly, “I didn’t see you come in.” He glanced at the cup curled within Arthur’s hand. “I’m sorry. I should’ve had your latte ready.”

Arthur laughed softly. Merlin was obviously having a bad day and he was concerned that he had not had Arthur’s latte ready? He really had too good of a heart. Arthur considered asking Merlin outright about the scholarship but decided to let Merlin tell him in his own time. That time came quickly.

“The Dean of Physics has informed me that my scholarship funding is being discontinued.”

“What? Why?” Arthur asked.

“I’m not sure,” Merlin said. “Lack of funding support, I think. I sure hope it’s not because I’m not advancing far enough in my dissertation research.”

“Merlin, you’re brilliant,” Arthur assured him. “It would most certainly have nothing to do with your progress.”

Merlin nodded, though he still looked uncertain. Arthur had to ask. “So, what does this mean? For you, that is.”

Merlin blew out a sigh, jabbing his fingers through his hair at his forehead. “It means I can’t finish my doctoral program. It means I can’t pay the tuition, I can’t afford to pay rent, I would barely be able to afford three meals a day and that would be based on the money I earn from this job. And I wouldn’t keep working here anyway if I couldn’t finish my degree because I would have to move back home because I couldn’t afford to live here. In a nutshell, Arthur, it means I am totally fucked.” 

“Okay,” Arthur acknowledged. “So what can I do to help?”

“Nothing,” Merlin said. “It’s not your problem.”

“Merlin...”

Merlin’s look went from morose to defensive. “Just – there’s nothing you can do about it, Arthur. I know things come easily to you, but this is something even you can’t fix.”

Arthur could understand Merlin’s defensiveness. It came from being fiercely proud. “Okay,” he said finally. “But I’m sure it’ll all work out, Merlin.”

Merlin gave him a look that said he very much doubted that things would ‘all work out.’

*~*~*~*~*

Arthur was sitting in a comfortable chair in the office of the Dean of the School of Physics.

“Mr. Emrys is off the chart brilliant in the physics field,” Dean Edwards said. “I have never encountered anyone like him.”

“Then why the hell is his funding being withdrawn?” Arthur wanted to know. This didn’t make any sense.

The Dean shrugged in understanding. “There is just not enough money to go around, I’m afraid. All Schools and Departments are suffering from insufficient funding.”

“How much?” Arthur asked boldly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“How much,” Arthur clarified, “to cover a year’s scholarship funding?”

The Dean named an amount somewhere in the vicinity of twenty thousand pounds, expecting the man seated across from him to at least raise an eyebrow.

But Arthur Pendragon was unfazed. He said simply, “Will you take a personal check or does it have to be a certified bank draft?”

This caused Dean Edwards to raise his eyebrows. Then he said with stunned incredulity, “I suppose a personal check would suffice coming from you, Mr. Pendragon.” The Dean was well aware of the Pendragon family’s considerable wealth and that Arthur had a sizeable trust fund as well as access to much of the family’s resources.

Arthur wrote out and signed a check in the amount of twenty thousand pounds, aware that he was rounding to the nearest ten thousand. He handed it to the still flabbergasted Dean. “I’ll give you another check for the same amount to cover the last year after this one clears,” he said. “But there are conditions.”

Dean Edwards nodded his head. What else could he do but agree when he was holding a check for twenty thousand pounds?

“First,” Arthur said, “this money is for Merlin only. It can’t be divided and redistributed to others in the program.”

The Dean nodded again.

“And, second, he can’t know it came from me. Tell him whatever story you want to, but you must never reveal the source of that scholarship money. That has to remain between you and me.” It was important to Arthur that Merlin be able to retain his pride and he didn’t think handing over the money directly to Merlin would allow for that.

“Of course,” Dean Edwards replied.

As Arthur got up to leave, the Dean extended his hand for a thanking handshake. He said warmly, “Thank you, Mr. Pendragon. Mr. Emrys truly has a great friend in you.”

*~*~*~*~*

Arthur was so happy to see Merlin smiling again.

“Your latte’s on me,” Merlin said jubilantly, handing Arthur a steaming cup of his favourite brew. Arthur raised an eyebrow. “I just found out my scholarship is being restored. In fact, I’m getting funding for the next two years to finish my dissertation research.” Merlin’s eyes twinkled. “You were right, Arthur. Things did work out.”

Arthur smiled at Merlin. “We should celebrate, then.”

“Why not?” Merlin said with a shrug of his shoulder. “What did you have in mind?”

“How about drinks at The Big Blue Barrel? My treat.”

“Sounds good,” Merlin agreed, still smiling. “I’ll meet you there at nine.”

*~*~*~*

Merlin had had way too many shots. For a slender fellow, he could toss back quite a bit of liquor, Arthur appreciated, but those last two or three tequila shots had definitely done him in.

He was swaying back and forth, his finger outstretched in front of him, pointing at Arthur, his eyes desperately trying to maintain focus on Arthur’s face – or his own finger, Arthur couldn’t be sure. “Yur a fine mate,” Merlin slurred.

Arthur grinned at him. “You’re so drunk,” he said, amusement clinging to every word.

Merlin tried to grin back but it came out awkward and lopsided, which only made it more endearingly amusing. Merlin tapped Arthur’s chest with his finger. “And you’re so hot.”

The chest-tapping caused Merlin to lose his balance and he started to topple over but Arthur caught him, righting him back on his feet. Then he grabbed a hold of Merlin’s t-shirt and forced him back and onto the barstool, keeping a hand on his chest to hold him steady.  
Arthur leaned over the bar and motioned to the bar keeper to call a taxicab. Then, he said to Merlin, who was staring at Arthur’s chest showing through the V of his Ralf Lauren designer shirt, “Come on, Merlin. I’m gonna get you home before you pass out and completely embarrass yourself.”

Merlin let Arthur lead him outside to a waiting taxicab. Arthur helped Merlin in, shoving him over to the far side, and then climbed in himself.

The driver, a man in his mid-50s, asked for the destination.

Arthur asked Merlin, “What’s your address? We’ll drop you around first.”

But Merlin would not tell him. “I live in a box,” Merlin said in barely understandable slurs. “You don’t wanna go _there_.”

“Come on, Merlin,” Arthur coaxed, aware that the driver was drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. “Just tell me.”

“No,” Merlin refused like a stubborn child. Then, taking Arthur – and dare say the taxicab driver – completely by surprise, Merlin moved from his seat to Arthur’s lap, straddling him. “Jus take me to yur place,” he garbled in Arthur’s face.

Oh Lord, thought Arthur, his nose mere centimetres from Merlin’s chin given Merlin’s extra height advantage from his lap position. Merlin sure was cute when he was drunk.

Arthur gave the driver, whose eyes were as big as saucers in the rear view mirror now, his own address. As the car pulled away from the curb, Arthur tried to coax Merlin off his lap.  
“That is not a very safe position, Merlin,” Arthur told him. “It would probably be better if you sat on the seat here.” Arthur tapped the seat next to him for added encouragement.

“Wadya mean, nossafe?” Merlin managed to slur out. “We got pants on, howsafe is that?”

Arthur thought he heard the driver chuckle but it was difficult to hear over Merlin’s drunken tittering.

Arthur figured he could suck up and endure the reasonably short drive to his flat with Merlin straddling him – safety not withstanding – and the taxicab driver laughing under and sometimes over his breath, when Merlin started to unbutton his shirt, sticking his hands inside the now open part, pressing his palms against Arthur’s bare chest.

Oh, double Lord.

“Whatcha doing, Merlin?” Arthur asked in his most casual friendly voice as if asking a five-year-old child about his game playing.

Merlin looked at Arthur with blue and bloodshot eyes. “You really are hot, Arthur,” he said.

“Thanks for the compliment, mate,” Arthur said patiently, surprised that he wasn’t feeling more awkward with Merlin’s hands playing with his chest hairs. “But do you think you could get off me now? We’re almost to my place.”

Merlin bent his head down to Arthur’s, the eighty-proof tequila strong on his breath. “Only if you let me kiss you,” Merlin negotiated drunkenly.

Merlin didn’t wait for Arthur’s answer, but leaned in and covered Arthur’s mouth with his own. Arthur expected the kiss to be sloppy and awkward given Merlin’s smashed state, but it was surprisingly warm and sensual. Merlin was no doubt a hell of a kisser when he was sober. Arthur was even more certain of his assessment when Merlin deftly parted his lips and eased his tongue through, entwining it with Arthur’s.

The taxicab made an abrupt stop, jolting Merlin, causing them to bump teeth, knocking Merlin sideways off Arthur’s lap. They had arrived at Arthur’s address.

Arthur helped Merlin out of the car, settling him just to the back of it, on the curb. Arthur then handed the driver, who seemed to be trying to hold back his amused mirth at Arthur’s predicament, twice the fare, figuring he owed the man for his troubles.

The driver smiled at Arthur, his eyes crinkling with further amusement as he glanced in his mirror. He said sympathetically, “He’s all yours, mate” before driving off, leaving Arthur with a sloshed (and apparently horny) Merlin.

Arthur understood the cabbie’s added amusement when he turned to collect Merlin and saw that his friend had hurled a considerable amount of that celebratory alcohol, most of which had managed to land all over him. It got worse as he saw Merlin grab the bottom of his own t-shirt, dripping with spew, and pull it up to wipe his mouth. It seemed impossible that that could have helped any.

A middle-aged professional couple Arthur recognized from his building eyed them both curiously as they entered the residence, and Arthur realized the pair of them must be quite a sight – Merlin obviously drunk and covered head to toe in vomit, and Arthur with his expensive designer shirt open to his navel, the consequence of Merlin’s drunken playfulness.

“Come on, mate,” Arthur said, grabbing Merlin and dragging him inside. “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”

It was impossible to get Merlin behind the doors of his flat without physically and closely guiding him, and so inevitably Arthur ended up with a fair share of Merlin’s tequila-laden upchuck all over him. He would have to strip them both, throw their clothes in the washer and then try and shower off Merlin, praying Merlin would not pass out completely before the bulk of this could be done.

Arthur finally got them into his flat, suffering a momentary setback when he tried to get his keys from his jeans pocket while keeping Merlin steady and then keying the lock as Merlin pawed at his shirt for some unknown reason. He guided a fading Merlin to the bathroom, which was off his bedroom. This required going around the open kitchenette to where is bed lay hidden – the kitchen and bedroom separated by a ten-foot wall – and then getting them to the bathroom, hoping they were not leaving a trail of upchuck on his bedroom floor.

In the bathroom, Arthur stripped down to his boxers, putting his clothes in a pile he intended to throw straight into the washer along with Merlin’s. He had set Merlin on the floor next to the shower stall and he saw that Merlin was starting to fade out. Another time this would have been a blessing, but he needed to get Merlin cleaned up. Arthur considered just leaving Merlin on the floor of his bathroom, in his vomit-soaked clothes, to sleep it off, but his conscience wouldn’t let him. So, he turned on the water in the shower and then dragged Merlin, clothes and all (except shoes and socks, which had minimal spew, surprisingly) into it.

The spray of the initially lukewarm water jolted Merlin somewhat awake, at least enough that Arthur was able to peel off his t-shirt, run it under the shower, and then attempt to shrug off Merlin’s now wet jeans. Merlin was little help but Arthur managed to get his pants off with minimal slipping and sliding. He threw the jeans, along with the rung-out t-shirt onto his own pile of clothes. 

Arthur left Merlin’s boxers on – thankfully, he was a boxer and not a brief (or commando!) man – while he attempted to shower him off, putting aside the thought that he would eventually have to remove the wet underwear before he could let Merlin sleep. But, for now, that awkward moment could be shoved under his mental rug.

The shower stall was large and was equipped with a ledge seat that Arthur perched Merlin on in order to wash him up. This was difficult given that Merlin kept slumping over but Arthur persisted the best he could. Noticing Merlin had wayward chunks of chuck even in his hair, Arthur let the shower spray run over his head for a good two minutes, then decided to rub in a little shampoo for good measure. Merlin would thank him in the morning for that. 

Satisfied that he had done the best he could with Merlin, Arthur quickly ran the spray over himself, periodically righting Merlin from slumping onto the shower stall floor. Then, Arthur wrapped a towel around his own boxer-clad bottom, and then slid the boxers down and off. He grabbed another towel for Merlin. 

“Come on, Merlin,” Arthur encouraged again, half-dragging, half-carrying Merlin out of the shower stall. He wrapped Merlin’s goosebumped body with the towel and rubbed the terry cloth against his skin to both dry and warm him. Arthur did the same trick with Merlin’s boxers as he had done with his own, though it was not nearly as graceful with Merlin swaying, continually on the verge of slumping to the floor. 

Arthur dragged-guided Merlin’s towel-wrapped body to his bed and deposited him on his back on top of it. He grabbed a pair of his own boxers from his dresser and then set about trying to carefully dress Merlin in them. Arthur figured that if he was in Merlin’s place, he would not care to wake up completely naked in another man’s bed, regardless of Merlin’s comments about Arthur’s hotness and his forward drunken kiss. It just didn’t seem right.

Arthur started to slide the boxers up under the towel and had almost reached his goal when Merlin, of course, chose this moment to resist completely passing out like any other drunken person. “Arthur...” Merlin murmured, reaching for Arthur’s hands, which were at Merlin’s hips under the towel, trying to yank the boxers up the last stretch.

As Arthur’s hands were occupied, Merlin reached for the towel wrapped around Arthur’s hips, groping his way to the opening at the side. Before Arthur could get his hands out from under Merlin’s towel, the boxers now securely in place, Merlin had managed to unhook Arthur’s towel so that it fell to the floor, exposing all his manly glory.

Merlin’s drunken cuteness had turned to infuriating charm.

“Wow,” Merlin expressed, taking Arthur fully in, though Arthur wondered how Merlin could even see out of his blood-red eyeballs. 

Arthur quickly retrieved and replaced the towel. “Yes, I know, Merlin,” he said nonchalantly to break the tension (and to cover his embarrassment), “I’m hot.”

“Swhat I’ve been saying,” Merlin agreed and then slumped his head back down on the bed. 

Arthur rolled Merlin under the covers, taking care to position him toward one side of the bed, but not too close to the edge that there was a danger that he’d roll off in his sleep. Then Arthur pulled on a pair of black sleep pants and threw both his and Merlin’s soiled clothes in the washer, for once over-riding the mindset that ‘darks’ should be separated from ‘lights’. All he cared about right now was that Merlin’s spew got washed out of their shirts and pants. 

Feeling completely exhausted, Arthur climbed into his bed, noting that Merlin had already managed to roll his way into the middle, face pressed down against one pillow, mouth hanging open, arm flung across the other pillow. Arthur gently lifted Merlin’s arm and tugged the pillow closer to the edge. He was left with about a two-and-a-half foot sleeping allowance, but Arthur decided he would take what he could get. His other option, of course, would be to take a pillow and blanket and sleep on the couch. Arthur, however, fell asleep while thinking about it.

*~*~*~*~*

“Good morning sunshine,” Arthur said cheerily, even though it was well into the afternoon.  
Arthur handed Merlin a mug of coffee, doused with a heap of sugar and a ton of cream, just the way he liked it. “Breakfast?”

“Sure,” Merlin mumbled, taking a sip of the sickeningly sweet brew. 

Arthur noticed Merlin staring at his bare chest and said drolly, “You’re not gonna tell me I’m ‘hot’ again, are you?”

Merlin looked up in surprise. “What?”

Arthur smiled. “Nothing. Eggs and toast fine?”

Merlin scooped up his breakfast heartily, perhaps a little too heartily for a man with a hangover. He said suddenly, “I have a weird feeling I may have molested you last night.”  
Arthur did his best to look surprised. “Now why would you think that?”

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t remember much. I was really drunk, wasn’t I?”

“Uh, a smidge, yeah,” Arthur said with a smile. “But, I assure you, you were a perfect gentleman,” Arthur told him, deciding it was best to keep the highlights of the night to himself in order to spare Merlin some embarrassment.

“Then why am I wearing someone else’s boxers? I presume they’re yours,” Merlin said, a slight flush creeping into his cheeks.

Arthur laughed. “Let’s just say your clothes got a little soiled after some of the tequila came up for a second round.” 

“That bad, huh?”

Arthur gave Merlin a tilted smile. “All in good fun, mate. Your clothes are washed, by the way, so you can put them back on after breakfast.”

Merlin grinned at him. “You really are too good to me.”

“I am. And you better not forget it.”

After Merlin finished his breakfast (he ate three eggs and two sets of toast with jam), he shuffled to the bathroom to shower and to dress in last-night’s clothes, freshly laundered by Arthur. Arthur stayed in the kitchen to clean up the dishes.

It was about five minutes after Arthur had heard the shower shut off that Merlin called out from the bathroom, “Okay if I use your toothbrush?”

*~*~*~*~*

After Merlin had gone, Arthur showered, remembering to give the stall a thorough spray down in the process. At the sink, he grabbed his toothbrush, then remembered Merlin asking if he could use it, and considered tossing it in the trash. But Arthur didn’t have another toothbrush on hand and his teeth and mouth felt disgusting, so he ran the bristles under scalding water, applied some paste, and then went about brushing as usual. 

This made him think some about his relationship with Merlin and how it didn’t really bother him that Merlin had used his toothbrush, the one he was now using, had straddled him quite suggestively in a taxicab, had kissed and tongued him, had proclaimed his hotness God knows how many times, and had slept in Arthur’s bed in Arthur’s boxers with Arthur. And, this morning, when Arthur awoke to find Merlin pressed up against him, his head practically in his armpit, Arthur had simply slid out of the bed as unobtrusively as possible, to allow Merlin to continue sleeping without interruption, and had gone about transferring their clothes from the washer to the dryer with the air of domestic tiding.

And, as ridiculous as it all may have sounded to someone else, none of these things seemed all that strange or uncomfortable to Arthur. He supposed it was the level of comfort he had established in his friendship with Merlin, the comfort to just be themselves. Arthur could honestly say that this was something he had never experienced with anyone before. Not girlfriends, guy friends, or even family. 

Everything just seemed so right with Merlin. 

*~*~*~*~*

“You wouldn’t be avoiding me, would you, Merlin?” Arthur asked, a grin in his voice. 

He had noted, with some amusement, that Merlin had kept his eyes cast shyly downward, a faint blush on his cheeks, as he had prepared and given Arthur his latte earlier. And now, during the lull period, Merlin was shuffling about the cafe, cleaning off tables, throwing out left-behind trash, instead of sitting down with Arthur, as was his usual custom.

“Me? No,” Merlin said, still avoiding Arthur’s gaze. “Whatever would give you that idea?”

“Oh, I don’t know...” said Arthur, “because you’re acting just like someone who is avoiding me.”

Merlin took a seat at the table with Arthur. He looked uncomfortable and still had trouble lifting his eyes to meet Arthur’s inquiring blue ones.

Arthur sighed. “What is it, Merlin?”

Merlin screwed up his lips and then looked up at Arthur, a flush showing in his face. “You lied to me. I most definitely molested you the other night.”

Arthur threw his head back and laughed. “You may have touched me more than once but I would hardly say that counts as molesting,” he teased, trying to ease some of Merlin’s embarrassment.

“And I think I may have ogled you a little,” Merlin continued.

“You might have said I was ‘hot’ a few times, yeah.”

“And I think I might have humped and kissed you.”

Merlin looked down at the table in self-conscious embarrassment, which made Arthur smile. “Oh, you remember that, do you?” When Merlin said nothing, continuing to look mortifyingly uncomfortable, Arthur said in reassurance, “Look Merlin, it’s no big deal. You were drunk – really drunk – and you can’t be held responsible for most of the things you did the other night.” Arthur recalled Merlin unhooking his towel and Merlin’s expressive appraisal of his manhood, and blushed slightly himself. “And if it makes you feel any better, you’re one hell of an awesome kisser.”

This got a laugh out of Merlin and he seemed more at ease now. Arthur was glad. He liked the happy and fun-loving Merlin. There was something in Merlin’s smile that made Arthur feel good inside.

Once that bit of awkwardness had been cleared up, they talked about this and that as usual. Merlin provided Arthur with an update on his doctoral work and Arthur in return filled Merlin in on the progress of his thesis. They chatted about football – Arthur telling Merlin that he should catch one of his practices some time, Merlin expressing that this sounded like a good idea, even though he generally did not like sports. They talked further about more general things until business started picking up again and Merlin returned to his position behind the counter once more.

Arthur considered his relationship with Merlin some more as he finished his latte. They were definitely friends. Maybe not the kind that shared all of the same interests or who hung out all the time, but they did enjoy each other’s company and they both seemed comfortable enough with one another to share various aspects of their lives. 

Arthur had never had a friend like Merlin and he was so very glad to have him around in his life now.

*~*~*~*~*

They were running through some basic drills when Wendall Williams tapped Arthur on the shoulder, nodding his head toward the side of the pitch. “I see your boyfriend finally decided to come out and watch you practice.”

Arthur followed Wendall’s nodding and saw Merlin standing on the edge of the pitch, hands shoved in the pockets of a grey hooded sweatshirt. Arthur gave him a little wave, to which Merlin offered a shrug of his shoulders in response.

“He’s not my boyfriend, you twat.” Arthur rebuked, though he had to admit that he was not adverse to “Merlin” and “boyfriend” in the same sentence, only Wendall Williams’ use of the words. “He’s my chum.”

Wendall huffed out a snigger. “What? They’re calling it something different these days, are they?” he commented unkindly before trotting off to complete the next drill.

When practice ended, Arthur joined Merlin on the sideline. “So, you decided to come out and take in a practice.”

Merlin shrugged. “I spent most of my off-work day in the physics lab and thought I’d stop by before heading home. I figured some fresh air might do my brain some good.”

Arthur indicated to Merlin to follow him to the locker room. “Why don’t you wait for me to get changed and we can maybe grab something to eat together?” Arthur quickly added, “That is, if you don’t have to rush off.”

“Okay,” Merlin said in that easy way that was so characteristic of him. “But I hope you know you’re paying.”

Arthur chuckled and led Merlin into the locker room with him. Merlin leaned against a locker as Arthur gathered his bag and change of clothes from his own locker. He first took off his cleats, hardly noticing that Merlin instinctively picked up his shoes, shook the dirt from the underside and placed them in his bag. Arthur became more aware of this interesting behaviour as he peeled off his shirt and Merlin took it from him, folded it, and placed it into his bag. Arthur pulled on his long-sleeved polo and then shed his shorts, which Merlin also took, folded, and put into his bag. While Arthur pulled on his jeans, he considered how odd this was, but yet, seemed so very familiar, as though he and Merlin had done this before, in some past life. “Thanks, mate,” Arthur said, shaking away the thought.

Arthur chose a small restaurant that served a reasonable variety of fine food, making sure it was okay with Merlin. He wanted to be able to talk to Merlin, to find out more about his life. The atmosphere of this restaurant would allow them to share a meal and conversation.

They chatted through dinner about their academic lives – how Merlin’s research was going, how Arthur’s graduate work and networking efforts were progressing – and then slipped comfortably into more personal aspects.

“I grew up in a little town outside Albion called Ealdor,” Merlin was saying. “You’ve probably never heard of it. About five hundred in population total. Good community to grow up in. Everybody pretty much knows everybody.”

“Sounds nice,” Arthur commented and he meant it. Little towns like Ealdor were usually close-knit where people knew they could count on each other.

“It is,” Merlin agreed, smiling. “Though it has its moments.”

“Any brothers or sisters?” Arthur asked him. It occurred to him that he didn’t know that much about Merlin’s family.

Merlin swallowed a bite of his food. “No. It’s just my mum and me.”

“What’s she like?”

“My mother?” Merlin shrugged. “She’s the most patient, understanding, compassionate and kind person in the whole world.”

Arthur’s insides warmed. You could tell Merlin really loved his mother. Arthur had never known his mother, as she had died in a car accident when he was very young. And the things Merlin had said about his mother could not be applied to Arthur’s father.

Merlin suddenly grinned at him. “You know, my mum would really love you,” he said.

“Yeah?” Arthur said, his insides warming even further at the prospect of meeting Merlin’s mother. “And why is that?”

Merlin continued to grin. “Because you take good care of me, Arthur Pendragon.”

They talked for a bit about Arthur’s family – his father and his step-sister Morgana. Merlin seemed as interested in hearing about Arthur’s life as Arthur was in hearing about his.

Over coffee and dessert (for Merlin, who could afford the calories, a triple chocolate layer cake, nothing for Arthur who had to think about keeping in shape), the conversation turned to relationships.

“I’ve had a few relationships,” Arthur confided as he watched Merlin devour his cake. “But none that have really lasted that long. How about you?”

Merlin swiped his tongue over his bottom lip to lick off some stray chocolate. For some reason, this made a hotness creep up into Arthur’s cheeks and pelvis, which had nothing to do with the hot coffee he was drinking. 

“I dated a few girls in high school,” Merlin answered, “and have had a couple of flings since I came to AU, but nothing very serious.” Merlin paused, as if weighing whether to tell Arthur more. “My only serious long term relationship was with someone I’d known for most of my life,” Merlin continued, tasting his coffee and then adding another spoonful of sugar. He absently stirred the liquid. “Will and I were together for over four years.” 

Merlin peeked up at him as though gauging Arthur’s reaction. But Arthur simply asked, “What happened?”

“I wanted to see the world. Will wanted to stay in Ealdor.” Merlin sipped his coffee. “We outgrew each other, I guess.”

“Any regrets?” Arthur asked, feeling a slight pang of anxiety in anticipation of Merlin’s answer.

Merlin looked thoughtful for a moment. “No,” he finally answered. “We tried to make it work but it just wasn’t meant to be.”

Arthur smiled in understanding although, inside, it was a smile of relief. He couldn’t understand why he had felt such anxiety – jealousy even – that Merlin had shared such an intimate, meaningful relationship with a close childhood friend, somebody with whom Arthur felt he might not be able to compete. But Merlin sounded resolute about the relationship being completely over and this comforted Arthur some.

The check was brought and Merlin snagged it before Arthur could take it up.

“I was kidding about you paying,” Merlin told him, smiling. “I figure I can treat you since you practically pay my wage at the cafe with your two to three lattes every day.”

Arthur grinned back. He would let Merlin pay this time but would insist on not letting it become a habit. Arthur liked taking care of Merlin, even if Merlin was not the “take care of me” kind of guy.

Arthur dropped Merlin outside the front of his building, resisting the urge to ask him if he could personally assess whether Merlin’s flat was really the box he had claimed it to be. Merlin would invite him in to see his flat when he was ready.

Merlin flashed him a smile as he got out of the car, saying, “Thanks for the lift and for the dinner conversation. I’ll catch you later.”

As he drove off, Arthur tried to calm the somersaults in his stomach that had started up when Merlin had flashed him that incredible smile.

*~*~*~*~*

His father was holding out a piece of paper. “I received this bank statement showing that funds were drawn from your account for a total of forty thousand pounds. Would you care to explain what prompted the need for this amount of money?”

“My account is my account,” Arthur replied. “What I do with the money in it is my business.”

Uther Pendragon raised an eyebrow. “Arthur, this amount of money requires an explanation, especially since most of the money in your account is the result of periodic trust fund deposits and my allowance of funds to you. I would say that is very much my business. If you wanted to purchase something for such an exorbitant price, you should have come to me and asked.”

“I didn’t buy anything,” Arthur said, having trouble meeting his father’s eyes. He knew this day would come. He knew he would have to explain to his father eventually that he had essentially paid for the final two years of Merlin’s doctoral study program. 

“Then...?” Uther questioned, holding out the statement as though the answer was somehow contained there.

“I made a donation to the School of Physics,” Arthur offered. He knew his father would not accept that as the whole answer, but Arthur preferred presenting the answer in parts.

“Why? You’re not even in physics.”

“There’s a student there, in the doctoral program, absolutely brilliant, whose scholarship funding had unfortunately run out,” Arthur offered further.

Uther considered Arthur for a moment. Then, he asked, “What’s her name?”

Arthur looked away as he informed his father, “His name is Merlin.”

Uther’s eyebrows lifted. 

“Merlin is brilliant, Father,” Arthur defended, wondering why he even bothered to explain things to his father. “And without a scholarship, he would not be able to complete his dissertation research. Merlin is my friend. I wanted to help him out.”

“I see,” Uther said, but it was plain to Arthur that his father did not see at all.

Arthur got bold as he said to his father, “I used the money allotted to me responsibly. I should not have to explain myself.”

“Very well, Arthur. If you want to give money to some poor, unfortunate student, I suppose that is your business. But be careful at whom you throw money. This Merlin could easily take advantage of your generosity.”

Arthur was quick to counter this point. “He doesn’t know the money for continuing his scholarship came from me. He thinks the Dean was able to garner the funds necessary for funding the last two years of his program. And I wish to keep it that way.” Arthur added, “So, I don’t think there’s any worry that Merlin will take advantage of my generosity, especially since he has no idea I have been at all generous.” Besides, Arthur thought to himself, it wasn’t in Merlin’s nature to take advantage of anyone.

*~*~*~*

They had just come in from practice, changing shorts and jerseys for pants and t-shirts.

“Hey, Pendragon,” Wendall Williams said with a sneer. “I didn’t see your boyfriend out at practice today. You mates have a row?”

“Fuck off,” Arthur told him simply. He wasn’t in the mood for Wendall’s wise-cracks.

Wendall gave Arthur a derisive smirk and then challenged, “Does he know he should be doing more than sucking your cock for forty thousands pounds? Talk about a high-priced sex toy, mate.”

The words were barely out of Wendall’s mouth before Arthur pounced on him, pounding him with fists and a whole lot of fury. Fucking guy. He always was a twat.

It took three other teammates to pull Arthur off of Wendall and to keep him held back. Wendall was on the floor, holding his nose, which was gushing with blood, crying out in agony. “You broke my nose, you fucking prick!” he screamed at Arthur.

“You’re lucky that’s all I broke,” Arthur growled back while his three teammates held tightly.

“Come on, Arthur,” Lance said, “just walk away. You did your damage. You can walk away now.”

Henchmen Miles and Chas were bent over Wendall, trying to help him up. Chas chimed in, “Yeah, Pendragon, just walk away. Go back to your boyfriend.”

Arthur clenched his jaw and flexed his muscles, causing Sam and Ben, who were holding him back by the arms, to instinctively tighten their grip. Lance, who was in front of him, backed him a few more steps. But, suddenly, all the fight went out of Arthur and he relaxed his body. Neither Wendall nor Chas were worth it. His teammates let go. Arthur collected his clothes and gear from his locker and left.

Arthur tried to ease the anger out of his body as he walked to his car, thinking about his reaction to Wendall’s comments. It wasn’t the insinuation that Merlin was his boyfriend or that Arthur was having sex with another guy that bothered him, that had made him attack Wendall with such fury. What had bugged him was Wendall’s smear against Merlin – that Merlin was some kind of sex-for-hire boy toy. That had grated Arthur’s nerves something fierce. Merlin was a young and brilliant budding physicist who was nobody’s play thing, and certainly not Arthur’s. Merlin was so much better than the rest of them, including Arthur. Guys like Wendall, Miles and Chas would only end up living in Merlin’s great shadow.

And he was also quite pissed that his father must have let slip to a teammate’s father (probably Wendall’s) that Arthur had forked out forty thousand quid to pay for Merlin’s scholarship. What business had it been his father’s to do something like that?

He had just unlocked his car and was throwing his gym bag onto the passenger seat when he heard Coach Taylor call him back and Arthur knew he was going to catch hell for breaking that prick Williams’ nose.

*~*~*~*~*

Merlin set a latte down on the table in front of Arthur and took a seat opposite him. “Gwen says you were suspended from football,” he said quietly. “You want to talk about it?”

Arthur picked up the latte and took a sip. “Not really.”

“We could go out and get _you_ drunk this time,” Merlin offered, trying to cheer him up.

Arthur chuckled and then said, “Somehow I think that would end badly.” He gave Merlin a reassuring smile. “Thanks, Merlin. But I’m okay.” When Merlin raised his eyebrows, he added, “Really. I did something stupid and I got properly nailed for it. It’s the way it goes.” He would not tell Merlin that his suspension had come as a result of his attack on Wendall for his disparaging comments.

“How long?”

“Three-game suspension.”

“Tough break.”

Arthur shrugged. “I’ll live. Give me an excuse to catch up on my graduate work.” He sipped some more of his latte and then asked, “When you finished here?”

“Another hour,” Merlin told him.

“I can hang around and give you a ride, if you want.”

Merlin lifted a shoulder. “Sure.”

“Maybe you could even be convinced to hang out at my place for a while tonight?” Arthur coaxed. “Watch some telly with me?”

Merlin looked tempted but said, “I’ve got a ton of school work to do. I’m in a fucking doctoral program, Arthur. Hard stuff. Physics. Remember?”

“I’ll order your favourite take-out,” Arthur further coaxed Merlin.

“I hate you,” Merlin said congenially, rising from the table. “I want Indian food, something real spicy,” he told Arthur, as he returned to his place behind the counter.

Arthur just grinned at him and returned to sipping his latte.

*~*~*~*~*

They had picked up Indian carry-out on the way to Arthur’s flat, Arthur making sure to order a good portion of vindaloo curry for Merlin and a less spicy tandoori chicken dish for himself.

They ate their food in front of the telly, seated on Arthur’s luxurious cozy leather sofa, sipping Brothers perry while flicking channels between a football game and a science program Merlin had wanted to catch. And, in between all that, they chatted about Merlin’s dissertation research (Arthur nodding with interest even though he knew next to nothing about physics), about history and politics and football (Merlin listening intently even though Arthur knew these were some of his least favourite topics), and about Gwen and how nice she was (both could easily agree on that).

It was nice, Arthur decided, just to spend time with Merlin, hanging out, eating spicy take-out, chatting about this and that. He shared a level of comfort with Merlin that Arthur could honestly say he had never felt with anybody before. He had friends, of course, but most of them were either fellow football players or those whose fathers were connected to Arthur’s father in some way. There wasn’t any depth to those relationships. Arthur had had girlfriends too, and although some of these relationships had been satisfying to a degree, they still had not reached the level of depth and comfort that he felt he shared with Merlin. With Merlin, Arthur could just be himself. No pretences. No games. No bullshit. Merlin accepted Arthur for who he was, and Arthur loved him for it.

Merlin helped Arthur pack up the left-over food and carried it to the kitchen, handing it to Arthur to put in the fridge. 

Arthur closed the door of the fridge and turned toward Merlin, intending to offer him a ride home. Merlin was slouched against the kitchen bar counter, his eyes tired-looking but still glinting, his hair messed in that adorably enticing way, the hint of a shadow appearing on his chin, upper lip, and below those kicking-right-off-his-face cheekbones. Arthur stared at Merlin’s lips, which were red from the spice of the curry, full, moist. God, he wanted to kiss him.

Arthur moved in toward him, placing his hands on the counter on each side of Merlin. Then he claimed Merlin’s mouth with his, wanting to feel and taste him, to explore those sweet red lips and his moist spicy tongue. 

Merlin let Arthur explore with his lips and tongue for a few minutes before he put his hands on Arthur’s chest and pushed him away lightly. “This is probably not such a good idea,” he told Arthur. But his lips remained parted, subtly jutting out in wanting.

“Alright,” Arthur replied, thinking that it was a wonderful idea to keep kissing Merlin. 

Merlin appeared tortured, as if weighing one tasty indulgent option over another less appealing but rational one. Then, apparently making his decision, Merlin fisted Arthur’s shirt and pulled him into a tongue-kiss.

Arthur responded in kind by pushing his own tongue deep into Merlin’s throat. He felt Merlin’s hands drop from his chest to his hips, his thumbs hooking into the belt loops of Arthur’s jeans, pulling his lower body more closely into his. The feel of Merlin’s crotch against his, even separated by two layers of denim, was exciting to Arthur and he found himself deepening the kiss. Then, Arthur reluctantly dragged his mouth from Merlin’s, moving it to his ear to whisper, “Stay with me tonight.” 

He expected Merlin to turn him down and was both pleasantly and anxiously surprised to hear Merlin breath out, “Okay.”

They moved around the wall into Arthur’s bedroom. They both stripped down to their boxers and then tumbled into Arthur’s bed, mouths and tongues hot, wet, and desperate. Kissing Merlin was exhilarating, intoxicating – Arthur couldn’t get enough.

Arthur started to run his hand down Merlin’s bare chest, but then drew back, suddenly feeling awkward and shy. “It’s okay,” he heard Merlin say. “You can touch me.”

Arthur wanted to touch Merlin, wanted to touch him all over, but this was all very new to him. Not the foreplay – Arthur had plenty of sexual experience – but that experience had all been gained with women. “I...” Arthur started. “I don’t—I’ve never--”

“You’ve never been with a guy before,” Merlin said in understanding. “It’s okay. We can take it slow.”

Merlin had had both girlfriends and boyfriends – a long term relationship with a male friend -and so Arthur figured it was best to yield to Merlin’s experience in this regard. He allowed Merlin to take his hand and place it on his chest, encouraging him to explore. Arthur did, running his palm over Merlin’s smooth chest, rubbing a nipple between thumb and forefinger. He brushed his fingertips across Merlin’s stomach, thumbing his belly button playfully. Then, feeling more confident, Arthur rolled on top of Merlin and planted kisses on his neck and chest, enjoying the feel of Merlin’s body quivering under his mouth as he kissed, licked and sucked his way around, exploring Merlin’s sweetness.

Arthur rolled to the side when he felt Merlin growing hard beneath him, his own erection taking shape in response. He wanted to feel Merlin’s blossoming hardness, to stimulate it further with tender strokes. 

Merlin had his tongue in Arthur’s mouth and, seeming to read his mind, he took Arthur’s hand again and moved it to his crotch. With his hand over his, Merlin rubbed Arthur’s palm against his cock, which began to tighten against the fabric of his boxers.

When Arthur became more confident in his fondling, Merlin moved his hand to Arthur’s chest, smoothing his palms over it, circling Arthur’s nipples with his thumbs. He kissed Arthur some more, sliding his tongue through parted lips, exploring the inside of Arthur’s mouth, tangling their tongues sensuously.

Merlin rolled out of Arthur’s cock-rubbing and on top of Arthur, stretching Arthur’s arms over his head, still kissing him. He broke the kiss to nibble Arthur’s ear lobe, to press his mouth to his neck, and to lick a path across his collarbone, returning his mouth to Arthur’s in between. To Arthur, this felt like heaven.

“You really are a great kisser,” Arthur professed breathlessly while Merlin was exploring his chest with his tongue. 

Merlin lifted his head and smiled at him. Arthur felt his pelvis tighten and grow hot. “Thanks. And I swear, Arthur Pendragon, you wear this awesome-smelling cologne all the time just to make me crazy.”

Arthur chuckled. He didn’t, but he was glad it had that effect on Merlin. 

Merlin moved his mouth and tongue down Arthur’s chest, hovering just above the waistband of his boxers. With deft fingers and a mischievous grin, Merlin pulled down the shorts, exposing Arthur’s erection. 

Arthur kept his arms extended over his head and he watched as Merlin situated himself on his lower thighs in a straddle. His heart was thumping so loudly he thought for sure Merlin could hear it, but Merlin was completely focused on Arthur’s cock, gripping it with both of his hands, using the lower one to pump the shaft and the upper one to stimulate the cockhead. 

Arthur was torn between wanting to watch Merlin stroke him and to lull his head back to savour the feeling of Merlin’s stimulation. He settled for closing his eyes, feeling every stroke, every pump, every flick of Merlin’s thumb across the tip of his cock. It seemed Merlin wasn’t just a great kisser. 

“You liking that?” Arthur heard Merlin say. 

He could barely form a response other than “guh” while attempting to nod his head. Arthur was rendered completely speechless when he felt Merlin pass his tongue over the tip and slit of his cockhead. His body quivered as Merlin continued to tongue his tip, his hips involuntarily lifting in yearning.

Merlin continued to use both hands and his mouth on him, while Arthur lay back revelling in total ecstasy, until he heard Merlin finally whisper somewhat raggedly, “Sorry, Arthur. But I can’t take any more. Just the feel of you is driving me crazy.”

Arthur opened his eyes to see Merlin take his left hand from his cock and thrust it down his own boxers, jerking his own manhood with a rhythm that matched his pumping of Arthur’s. Merlin pumped and jerked steadily, heartily, until, at last, Arthur came with a jolt of his body that left him shuddering for several seconds. Merlin’s jerking produced a similar effect shortly after, and Merlin’s cockhead, peeking out at the top of his boxers and pointed directly at Arthur’s spent cock, spurted warm stickiness that mixed with Arthur’s own sticky eruption. 

Merlin mumbled, “Sorry” before sliding up Arthur’s body, unconcerned about the semen that spread over both of their stomachs and chests in the process. He claimed Arthur’s mouth once again, sliding his tongue between parted lips as though that was where it belonged.

They lay side by side, kissing and tonguing, until they finally fell asleep. And Arthur was pretty sure their lips were still touching long after they surrendered to their dreams.

*~*~*~*~*

Morgana had her legs curled up under her as she lounged on Arthur’s sofa, sipping a strong cup of tea. She had arrived in the late afternoon, stopping by to see her step-brother on her way to meet a friend for dinner.

“I think I’m in love with him,” Arthur told Morgana, half-boldly, half-shyly.

“Him?”

“Merlin.”

“Oh, the cafe guy Gwen works with,” Morgana acknowledged. “He’s cute.”

“He stayed here last night,” Arthur revealed. Morgana raised her perfect eyebrows. “We didn’t do anything serious,” Arthur clarified. “Just kissing, touching.” He didn’t bother disclosing that Merlin had given him an incredible hand job that had left him panting.

“And how do you know it’s love and not just lustful curiosity?” Morgana asked him.  
Arthur thought about it. He just knew. Mostly because it hadn’t been at all awkward this morning when Merlin had rolled out of his bed, pulled his clothes on, and then went into the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth with Arthur’s two-weeks new toothbrush. And it had still not been awkward when Merlin gave him a tongue-kiss goodbye before taking a taxicab home, promising Arthur he would ‘catch him later’. And it had further seemed perfectly natural to Arthur, after showering and dressing, to brush his teeth with his Merlin-used toothbrush without even thinking about running the bristles under scalding water for five minutes. And, it hadn’t even bothered Arthur that he had had to strip his bed and wash his sheets to remove their combined bodily fluids, wishing only that such necessary laundering would become a regular occurrence.

“I’m completely comfortable with him,” Arthur told Morgana.

“Comfort is good,” Morgana agreed, “but I think love should also come with a desperate desire to screw his brains out.”

“Well, there’s that too,” Arthur admitted, grinning.

Morgana smiled and then threw her arms around Arthur. “Awww....my brother’s in love!”

“Do you think it’s strange, Morgana?”

“What? That you’re in love?”

“That I’m in love with Merlin,” Arthur elaborated. “He is a guy.”

Morgana shrugged. “We love who we love, Arthur. If you’re happy, then it’s right.”

Arthur _was_ happy. _Very happy._

*~*~*~*~*

Arthur watched Merlin working behind the counter, trying not to grin at the way Merlin was pretending not to notice him.

It had been two days since Merlin had stayed the night with him. Their romance was still very fresh, and Arthur found that it took every ounce of his mature resolve not to go around grinning like a goofy teenager in love. But it was hard because he was in love and he felt like grinning – all the bloody time.

Arthur saw Merlin say something to Gwen, and then he came toward the end of the long serving counter, crooking his pointer finger at Arthur as a hint to follow him.

Merlin led him to a small store room that had shelves lined with tins of coffee, boxes of paper cups, and various machine supplies. Merlin quietly shut the door behind them and then pounced on Arthur, saying with passion, “I need to kiss you.” 

He assaulted Arthur’s mouth with warm lips, pushing his tongue – hot and wet – so far down his throat that Arthur could practically feel it tickling his toes. At the same time, Merlin’s hands roamed his body, running over his backside and then rubbing his front package, moving across his chest and shoulders. 

“And apparently feel me up,” Arthur teased during a brief moment of pause in Merlin’s sensual onslaught.

“Umm...” Merlin mumbled, moving his lips to Arthur’s neck, “that too.” He reclaimed his mouth, tangling tongues, pulling Arthur’s hips forward into him.

Arthur loved Merlin kissing him, touching him. And he especially loved the way Merlin seemed to know what pleased him, what excited him. Arthur felt Merlin’s beginning hardness through both of their jeans and he pressed his pelvis into him. Merlin responded by pushing his tongue deeper down his throat, making Arthur grab a hold of Merlin’s head, threading fingers through his hair, yanking slightly on it, as Merlin’s tongue went impossibly deeper.

They were so engrossed in savouring each other that they were not aware of Gwen’s presence until they heard her whisper loudly, “Uh, Merlin? It’s getting busy out there. Sorry. I need your help.”

They parted quickly but reluctantly. Gwen looked at Arthur somewhat apologetically and Arthur had to wonder what Merlin had said to her earlier. Had he told Gwen he was taking Arthur into the store room to make out with him? In any event, she hadn’t seemed too surprised to catch them in hot lip-lock. Maybe Morgana had said something to her.

“Sure, sorry Gwen,” Merlin muttered, quickly adjusting himself. Arthur did the same. They both followed Gwen out to the main cafe area. And, indeed, there was now a line-up.

“I’ll come back later and give you a lift home,” Arthur said to Merlin as Merlin started to get hustling behind the counter. Or to my place, Arthur thought lustfully, noticing the rosy flush of Merlin’s cheeks, the delightful after-effect of their five-minute store room snogging.

Arthur caught Merlin’s attention, pointing to his own head, miming a flattening of his hand against it. Merlin reached up and quickly smoothed a hand over the hair that was sticking up wildly, the result of Arthur having tugged on it just a few minutes before.

He winked at Merlin, and turned to leave, catching a glance from Wendall Willliams, who was giving him a knowing smirk. He sidled up to Arthur.

“So, Pendragon, just here for a quickie?” he said. “Latte, that is.” Wendall flicked a look at Merlin, who was already busy behind the counter.

“Mind your own business, Williams,” Arthur ground out, willing himself to remain cool-headed. It would not do to have a repeat of the locker room incident, especially here in the university cafe. Arthur gestured at Wendall’s heavily taped nose. “You don’t want to have that reset.” 

“Hope he’s worth that three-game suspension,” Wendall continued to taunt, intentionally trying, Arthur knew, to get a rise out of him. 

But Arthur refused to take the bait. Instead, he gave Wendall a sarcastic smile and left the cafe, focusing on remembering how Merlin’s lips had felt on his just moments ago.

*~*~*~*~*

When Arthur returned to the cafe later, he found Gwen working behind the counter all by herself.

“Where’s Merlin?” he asked. Arthur was sure Merlin was supposed to be working until eight.

Gwen frowned, biting on her bottom lip. “He went home,” she told him. “Said he wasn’t feeling too well. Left a couple of hours ago.”

Odd, Arthur thought. Merlin had seemed fine when he was snogging and groping him in the store room earlier. Gwen’s look and lip-biting gave him pause.

“Did something happen, Gwen?” he asked but Gwen simply responded with a shrug.

Something was up, Arthur decided. And he was going to find out what it was.

*~*~*~*~*

Arthur pulled up in front of Merlin’s building, finding a spot to park rather easily. He had never been to Merlin’s flat, his “home-in-a-box” as he called it, but Arthur had dropped him off at the building a few times before.

Inside, Arthur looked through the list of names to determine which of the “boxes” belonged to Merlin and found that one on the second floor was where his friend – his lover – resided.

Arthur climbed the stairs to the second floor and then knocked on the door with the number twenty-two on it, reflecting that if the size of the building and number of listed occupants were any indication, then Merlin’s description of his flat was, indeed, an apt one.

Merlin opened the door. His eyes showed surprise, but he said very evenly, “What are you doing here, Arthur?”

Definitely not friendly or lover-like, Arthur assessed. “Gwen said you left work because you weren’t feeling well,” Arthur said, trying to get a foot over the threshold but noticed that Merlin very subtly blocked his attempt. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Merlin repeated with more feeling now in his voice. He crossed his arms and hitched his chin up a notch. “Why? You think you can just fix whatever’s wrong by throwing your money at me?”

Ah, Arthur realized. So this was it. He knew it was going to come sooner or later. 

“How’d you find out?”

“Your football mate was kind enough to enlighten me,” Merlin informed him, both anger and hurt showing in his blue eyes. Then, he said, “Along with asking me what kind of sexual favours I’m performing for that kind of money.”

“Christ,” Arthur muttered, running his hand through his hair.

“What kind of game are you playing, Arthur?” Merlin wanted to know. “Were you hoping I’d trip all over myself lusting after you, so you could go back to your friends and tell them all about it?”

“No!” Arthur countered. How could Merlin even think that? “It’s not like that at all...I--”

Merlin lashed out at Arthur, giving him a hard shove that knocked Arthur over the threshold. “I don’t need your money, Arthur,” Merlin told him. “And I don’t need you.” 

Merlin closed the door, leaving Arthur standing on the other side, completely at a loss as to how this had taken such a wrong turn, especially when a few hours ago their lips had been locked and their tongues tangled in the cafe store room.

Arthur sank to the ground outside Merlin’s door, his back sliding down the wood. Merlin may have just pushed him out of his box-flat, but Arthur had no intention of going anywhere. He would stay put until Merlin was ready to listen to him.

It was nearly three hours before Merlin opened his flat door, apparently intending to get some fresh air. Arthur had resorted to resting while he waited and practically fell into Merlin’s home-in-a-box when the door was suddenly yanked open.

Merlin appeared genuinely surprised. “You’re still here?” he said.

Arthur rolled himself up and off the ground, which was not very graceful but got the job done. He said to Merlin, “You shoved me out before I got a chance to say--”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Merlin interrupted stubbornly. Arthur could see the faint look of hope in Merlin’s eyes mixed in with the hurt. He could also see the tell-tale signs of expressed emotion in those blue depths and knew that it had not been easy for Merlin to shove him out, to tell him he didn’t need him. And that was enough motivation for Arthur to try and make Merlin understand how he felt.

Arthur dared to move inside the threshold, backing Merlin up somewhat with his movement. He closed the door behind him so as to make it harder for Merlin to shove him out again. He tried again. “You shoved me out before I could say, before I could tell you, how I feel.” Arthur met Merlin’s blue eyes with his own. “How I feel about you.”

“Yeah?” Merlin said so softly that Arthur hardly heard him.

Arthur took a deep breath. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to make sure Merlin understood. “I’m totally in love with you, Merlin,” he said. “I want you like crazy and want to be with you. I’ll do anything to prove it to you. Please just give me that chance.” 

Merlin said nothing but Arthur could tell he was deeply affected by Arthur’s admission. “I should have told you about the scholarship money. I’m sorry, Merlin. And I’m sorry that bloke Williams made you think that my giving money meant you owed me any kind of....” Arthur looked away for a moment, “sexual favours.” He returned his eyes to Merlin’s face. “I just wanted to help you finish your doctoral degree. That’s all.”

“I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble with your friends,” Merlin said finally. Arthur could see the emotion building up in Merlin’s eyes and he wanted to smooth that hurt away, to assure Merlin of what was important to him.

“I don’t care about them, Merlin,” Arthur said. “I care about _you_. I love you. I want you.”

Merlin backed Arthur up against the door, his mouth hot on his, his tongue slipping easily between Arthur’s waiting parted lips. But before he became completely lost in Merlin’s sensual tongue-play – God, he wanted him! – Arthur needed to show Merlin how much he loved and wanted him. So, he cupped Merlin’s face between his hands and dragged Merlin’s sweet mouth and tongue away from his.

Merlin looked wary, his eyes questioning. Arthur was quick to reassure him. “I want you to kiss me, Merlin, to touch me. But, first, let me show you how I feel about you.”

As he said this, Arthur dropped to his knees, lining his head up with Merlin’s crotch. He unbuttoned Merlin’s jeans and slid down the zipper. Then he yanked Merlin’s jeans down just far enough to expose his cock, which he was pleased to find was already hardening in response to his actions, in anticipation of what was to come.

Arthur licked and sucked Merlin to full erection and then set about pleasuring Merlin with his mouth and tongue, taking full enjoyment from hearing Merlin’s raspy breaths and throaty moans. When Merlin threaded his hair with his fingers, pulling slightly on his head, Arthur picked up the pace of his pleasuring until Merlin finally exploded, crying out, “Oh God, Arthur!”

Arthur swallowed Merlin’s warm and salty seed and swiped a thumb over his lips. He turned his blue eyes up to look at Merlin, whose face bore the after-effects of orgasm – cheeks flushed, eyes glazed, lips parted. God, he was beautiful.

“You get how I feel, then?” Arthur asked, sliding up Merlin’s body to meet his delicious mouth with his own.

“Umhmm,” Merlin mumbled into Arthur’s mouth, not willing to break the kiss. It was a full two minutes before Merlin pulled his tongue out of Arthur’s mouth, leaving his lips just touching Arthur’s, so he could say, “Now let me show you how I feel.”

Merlin then led Arthur to his sofa bed, which really only required about two steps backward, considering Merlin lived in a box, after all.

*~*~*~*~*

“Good luck,” Merlin wished him, after giving Arthur a kiss that drew both envious stares and sour looks from his teammates.

Arthur didn’t care one bit. “Thanks.” He smiled and winked at Merlin. “I’ll see you out there.”

And there was no doubt he would, seeing as Merlin had dressed for the occasion – championship game – in spirited school colours, sporting one of Arthur’s spare team jerseys, the number seven and ‘Pendragon’ proudly on the back. Arthur knew that Merlin had never been to a school sports event in his life – and it tickled him rather pink that Merlin was giving it his all just for Arthur.

Arthur turned to rally his troops before game time. He met Wendall Williams’ sneering gaze and considered telling him to shove his attitude up where no one could see it, but before he even had the chance to weigh in on the decision, Lance fixed Wendall with a fierce look and told him to “zip it.”

As his team got called onto the field, Arthur looked for Merlin. He spotted him with Gwen and Morgana, sticking out like a sore thumb between them. Merlin had added a tall, colourful, floppy hat and a wooly scarf, both in the school colours. 

Arthur grinned. What an adorably goofy geek Merlin was. But he was Arthur’s goofy geek and that was all that mattered.


End file.
